


I Forgot That You Existed

by newyearsstreamers



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Hurt Shawn Spencer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyearsstreamers/pseuds/newyearsstreamers
Summary: When Shawn wakes up, he has no idea where he is. Well, other than that he's in a cornfield, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. He has no idea how he got there. He has no idea why he would be there.The last thing he remembers is being in Arkansas.In 2006.
Relationships: Juliet O'Hara/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	I Forgot That You Existed

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i recently got into psych and i wanted to write something for it, so here goes. this fic starts in very early 2020.
> 
> the title comes from taylor swift's song of the same name.

Confusion.

That was maybe the most accurate word for how he felt when he woke up. Shawn couldn’t think of anything else to describe how he was feeling right then. Everywhere he looked, there were corn stalks. His clothes felt wet, and he chalked it up to the fact that rain was a thing that existed. He rubbed his (also wet) hands on his eyes while he yawned. Then, he ran his hand through his hair while he sighed discontentedly. As Shawn sat up, he decided that he actually could think of another word for how he felt.

“Ow,” he groaned. His head was absolutely _killing_ him. Every move felt as if he was being stabbed in the forehead. And yet, he stood up anyway.

And then he promptly fell back down, and he let out a ( _totally_ manly) yelp. His left leg was burning, and he wasn’t sure how he had missed the pain until that moment. Slowly, he reached over and poked where it hurt ( _stupid,_ he called himself). He gasped slightly at the pain but decided he needed to figure out why he seemed to be in a cornfield, especially considering he couldn’t remember anything.

Like, anything at all.

He didn’t have any clue why he was in a cornfield. He didn’t have any clue where his shoes were (but he sure did hate how cold his feet were). He didn’t have any clue why his clothes were wet but the ground was not (maybe it didn’t rain?). He didn’t have any clue whose wedding ring could possibly match the one on his finger ( _I’m married?_ ).

Shawn held onto that last one—if he was married, then his wife would (hopefully) be looking for him. Maybe she’d have some idea as to what the _hell_ had happened to him.

Carefully, he decided that he needed to stand again—and preferably, he wouldn’t fall again. Shawn put his palms in the grass and slowly pushed himself up, keeping in mind his head and his hurt leg. He grinned when he managed to stand, despite the fact that his head was both throbbing and spinning, and his leg was practically begging him to stop putting weight on it. Little pieces of loose grass-covered his hands ( _gross_ ). Shawn tried waving his hands to try to get the grass to fly off.

It didn’t work.

His next brilliant (truly, it was brilliant) idea was to wipe his hands off on his pants. Shawn had just happened to decide to use his back pockets, where his phone was sitting.

Phone.

He pulled it out and was thoroughly surprised that he didn’t have a password. Clearly, whatever he did with his life, he wasn’t one to keep secrets.

Shawn opened his contacts and went through the list. There were only three people he actually recognized and could likely trust: “dad,” “mom,” and “gus :).”

He called Gus. It rang twice before Gus answered.

“Shawn?” His friend sounded worried and incredibly surprised. “Where have you been?”

“What?” Shawn had no idea where he had been.

“Don’t play, Shawn. Juliet and I have been worried sick. Even Vick’s concerned!”

“Gus,” Shawn started. Now his voice sounded worried like Gus. Great. “I have no idea where I am and—”

“What do you mean you don’t know where you are?” Gus interrupted. Now his voice was tainted with a slight tinge of impatience.

“I don’t know where I am,” Shawn repeated, “and I have no idea who ‘Juliet’ or ‘Vick’ are.”

“What?” How could Shawn _not_ know who Juliet or Vick were?

“I mean, I’m in a cornfield, but I have no idea where it is.”

“Okay, that’s helpful,” Gus said. “Now, what do you mean you don’t know who Juliet or Vick are?”

Shawn shrugged, and then remembered he was on the phone.

“I don’t know, I just don’t know who they are.” He paused. “Who are they?”

Gus paused. “Never mind them, for now. Can you turn on your phone’s location? We need to find out where you are.”

“Sure, buddy.” Shawn did just that.

“Okay, good. At least you’re still in San Francisco. Actually, you’re not that far—”

“Wait, what?”

“What?” Gus didn’t like how incredulous his friend sounded.

“I haven’t been in San Francisco in years.”

Shawn thought his friend was crazy. Gus thought his friend was in a lot of trouble.

“Shawn, you came here, like, six years ago. Are you okay?”

“I mean, my leg hurts, and my head is killing me.”

“Oh, gosh,” Gus muttered. Shawn barely heard it. “Alright, well, stay where you are. I just let the police know where you are, and they’re on their way.”

Shawn smiled. “Okay.”

Dread.

That was the main thing Juliet was feeling as she and her partner combed through the corn. About every minute or so, they each let out a “ _Shawn!_ ” to try to find him. So far, over the past ten minutes, they had been unsuccessful.

At the eleventh minute, and the eleventh “ _Shawn!_ ” (or maybe technically the twenty-second?), there was a shouted response.

“Hello?”

Relief.

That was the main thing Juliet was feeling when she found her husband. He put his hands up as if she had pointed a gun at him.

Horror.

That was the main thing Juliet was feeling when she shone her flashlight on him.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered to herself. Shawn was primarily leaning on his right leg. There was a spot on his left leg where he had clearly been hurt, if the—mostly dried—blood covering his leg in the surrounding area was any indication. That, however, wasn’t really what bothered her. Juliet was mostly worried about the blood on his face. He had some small, partially healed scratches on the left side of his face, but there was also a smaller amount of blood around his eyes and on his eyelids. There was also some in his hair at the top, but it was incredibly dark on the right side of his head (head trauma?).

She tilted her head to speak into the radio on her shoulder. “I found him. Head back to the car.” Then she turned to her husband. “Shawn, are you okay?”

“Better now that you’re here.” Shawn gave her his signature smile, but his eyes made it obvious he didn’t know who she was.

She smiled sadly. Gus had, of course, warned her that he didn’t seem to recognize her name, but she had wished he was wrong.

“I’m Juliet,” she told him. “I’m with the police, and I’m here to help you. Okay, Shawn?”

Shawn opened his mouth in an inaudible gasp. “You’re Juliet!”

“Yes. I’m Juliet,” she repeated.

“Gus told me about you. Well, not really.” He paused. “Apparently, I’m supposed to know you. That’s what Gus said.” Another pause. “But, I don’t.” He gave her a sympathetic smile and used a softer voice. “I’m sorry.”

Juliet held out her hand, and her voice was soft as she spoke.

“It’s alright,” she said. “Come with me? We’re going to get you out of here.”

Shawn smiled and took her hand. She led him out the way she came in, going slowly so he didn’t disturb his leg more. When they got back to the car, her partner was leaning on the hood.

“Hey, buddy,” he greeted Shawn. He turned to Juliet. “Is he alright?”

Juliet shook her head.

“I’ll drive?”

Juliet nodded her head.

About halfway through the twenty minute car ride to the hospital, Shawn asked a question.

“Juliet.”

She turned back and looked at him. “Yes?”

“Who are you to me?” His voice was tinged with guilt.

Juliet’s partner looked at her, his mouth open in surprise.

Juliet smiled sadly. “I’m your wife,” she informed him.

“Oh.” Shawn’s expression matched her partner’s. “Who’s Vick?”

“The police chief,” she said. Shawn nodded.

Nobody talked for approximately three more minutes.

“How long was I out there?”

“You’ve been missing for about a week and a half,” Juliet’s partner informed him. “But I doubt you were in the field for that long.”

“Why not?”

“You look like you’ve been being fed.”

“I could have eaten the corn,” Shawn pointed out.

“That is true,” Juliet said. She was smiling.

“Well, it isn’t. We have a suspect in custody now. Surprisingly, he confessed to everything, including that you haven’t been in the field for that long.” Her partner nodded at Shawn using the rearview mirror.

“What happened?” Shawn asked.

“It was this guy you and Gus were investigating. Anthony Adomo. Gus said his wife hired you guys because she was worried he was doing illegal things, which he obviously was. He didn’t like you guys looking into him, so he took you.” Juliet frowned. “He wouldn’t tell us what he did to you, except that he left you once you got ‘annoying.’” She used finger quotes around the last word.

“Oh,” Shawn said as they pulled into the hospital. They were greeted by nurses that Juliet had asked for when she and her partner had left the station to find her husband.

It wasn’t until the next day that they were able to talk more. By then, Shawn had gotten his leg stitched up and bandaged, and it was determined that Shawn had retrograde amnesia. He couldn’t remember anything after a few months prior to his return to Santa Barbara.

Physically, he would be fine.

After some interrogation, Anthony Adomo had gone over everything that had happened. He had taken Shawn as an attempt to scare Shawn off the case. He hadn’t figured that bringing Shawn to his hideout would have allowed him to piece together everything Anthony was trying to hide. In a panic, he had taken a bat to the side of Shawn’s head, and the scratches on his face came from the landing. Anthony had then proceeded to take Shawn to the cornfield with the plan to abandon him there. However, Shawn was still breathing, so Adomo’s brilliant plan was to shoot him in the leg to hinder his ability to leave the cornfield.

Juliet couldn’t believe she had almost lost her husband over a case that was originally about prostitution.

When Shawn woke up for the first time in the hospital, Gus was the one who was there, watching some show on the TV.

“Hey, man.” Shawn had said. There was sleep still evident in his voice.

"Shawn!” Gus grabbed the remote and muted the TV. He walked over to the bed, and he smiled at his friend.

“Gus!” Shawn imitated Gus’ tone. Gus lightly slapped his shoulder. “Alright, Doc. Give it to me straight.” Gus burrowed his brow at him. “Am I going to die?” Shawn asked dramatically. Gus slapped his shoulder a little harder this time, but he played along.

"Yes, someday,” he said. Somehow, that reminded him of when Shawn’s appendix burst.

"Our God is but a cruel one,” Shawn proclaimed. Gus tsked at him. Neither of them spoke for a second. “Juliet said we were working a case?”

“Yeah, we were,” Gus answered.

“What does that mean? What do we do?”

Gus inhaled sharply. “We’re psychic detectives. Well, technically you’re the psychic detective. I’m your dashing partner.”

Shawn scrunched his face. “But I’m not psychic.”

“No, you’re not.” Gus shook his head. “But that’s what you told everyone to get out of getting arrested, and by now we’re in too deep to come clean.”

Shawn nodded. “Are you the only one who knows I’m not psychic? Well—I imagine my parents know. But does anyone else?” Shawn took a microscopic pause. “Does Juliet know?”

“Yeah, obviously, your parents know. Juliet knows. Juliet’s ex-boyfriend knows. Lass—Juliet’s old partner should know. You said you sent him a video.” Gus pondered the question.

“Anyone else?”

“Oh, yeah, there was this other fake psychic that you got arrested. I think she knew.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“Yep.”

Gus unmuted the TV, and they watched it together, though Shawn didn’t know what it was about. It didn’t help that the show was mostly in Spanish.

After a little while, Juliet knocked on Shawn’s room’s door. Gus greeted her with a “hello” while Shawn settled for a smile and a wave.

“Hey,” she said, and she gave Shawn a small smile in return. Juliet turned to Gus. “Do you mind if I talk to Shawn in private?”

“Oh, no, go ahead.” Gus gestured at Shawn, waved goodbye to him, and left the room.

Juliet took the chair by the bed. Shawn took her hand. Juliet kissed the back of his hand.

It felt natural, and, despite the fact that he no longer knew the woman before him, he kind of hated that he couldn’t remember any other time he had done this.

“Is something on your mind?” Shawn asked.

Juliet chuckled. “Well, yeah. There’s a lot on my mind.”

Shawn gave her a smile ( _cute_ , she thought). “What’s up?”

“For starters,” she began. “The man I’ve known for fourteen years and loved for almost as many is having memory issues. That kinda sucks, but I know he'll get through it. He's strong." She smiled. "Plus, we have to find out where he wants to live…” She didn’t know if Shawn would want to go back to his dad, or Gus, or if he would want to stay with her while they tried to help him recover. He seemed to pick up on that question.

“I’ll stay with you,” Shawn said. “Might as well get to know my absolutely gorgeous wife all over again.”

The smile on her face was small. “I’d love that,” she said. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I’m sure.” He wasn’t, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. He did want to know his wife though.

“Well, in that case—”

“What is _that?_ " Shawn asked, pointing at the TV. Juliet followed his finger.

Shawn was on the TV in a delivery man’s uniform.

“ _Tengo un paquete para ti… entrega especial. Dice… manejar con cuidado._ ” Then Shawn and the woman on the TV were making out.

“Oh, my God.” Juliet’s face made it very obvious she had forgotten about that case, and it also made it very obvious that she found it hilarious. In case it wasn’t obvious, though, she was giggling. “I have a story for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> as a southerner, having juliet say "you guys" was so weird, but she doesn't seem like she'd say "y'all." 
> 
> i was going to do a second chapter, but what i was going to do for it was honestly just way too much, so this is just gonna be one chapter now, and maybe someday i’ll decide to finish the second chapter


End file.
